Gravity
by Brianna Jackson
Summary: AU; After graduating from NYU, Katniss Everdeen returns home to Chapel Hill, North Carolina in the wake of tragedy. Once there, Katniss is forced to deal with all the demons she had faught to leave behind.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Douglas Adams once wrote, "I may not have gone where I intended to go, but I think I have ended up where I needed to be."

I read this on the plane—in the book "The Long Dark Tea-Time of the Soul"-while on my long journey back to Chapel Hill, California. A friend of mine, Darcy, had leant me the book back at NYU, telling me it was a favorite of hers and she was trying to get more people to read it. I had thrown it in a backpack, not even remembering I had it until I had packed in a hurry, finding the worn down book in a small pouch and deciding, what the hell! I might as well.

Turns out, it wasn't half bad and made the plane ride less excruciating. It took my mind off of the reason behind returning to the place I swore off when I was eighteen.

The women next to me was feeding her crying baby, talking softly to it as it sucked on her breast which was covered by a pink nursing blanket. I could only make out the black hair of the baby girl but I knew her name was, Emily. The women had made it point to remind the baby one hundred and fifty-seven times. I had counted. "I'm sorry," she apologizes once she's seen I have placed my book back inside my bag and have my attention on my hands which are knotted in my lap. Other than the cordial hello we had given each other, we hadn't talked in the three hours we had been in this plane. She's been too entranced in teaching Emily that her name is Emily.

"Don't worry. She's beautiful," I say. Emily has been uncovered, her bright brown eyes searching around the plane, a content smile on her face. I look at her mother and note that they look nothing alike. Her mother is blonde with slim, blue eyes, nothing of her reflected in the babies' features. Maybe she was adopted from another country. Or maybe she looked just like her father who was absent at the moment.

"Thank you." She smiles and kisses the side of the baby's head, whispering something into her ear before playing with her exposed toes. I smile. I remember when I used to be this way with Prim. My mother-who had no maternal instincts left in her body after the death of my father—left it up to me to take care of the loving part of taking care of a child even though at that time, Prim was about seven and didn't need much of it. But loving Prim wasn't the hard part. That came natural. The money and working part of taking care of Prim became the hard part but I made it work.

It had been hard leaving her when I left for New York after my senior year. She was fifteen, just entering high-school. She had been the one that told me to go, begged me to leave actually. "Do something for yourself, Katniss! We can take care of ourselves. Have a freakin' life!"

Needless to say, I left after that summer.

The pilot comes over the intercom in the plane, telling us we have arrived in Raleigh, North Carolina and will be landing shortly. I roll my window down, making out the tops of the lush green trees, a sight I miss so much living in New York. I'll be landing in Raleigh where—believe it or not—Prim will be picking me up and driving me back to Chapel Hill. Driving me back to hell.

The women clutches onto Emily who has begun to fuss. "It's probably her ears," I tell the woman who looks frazzled.

"There's nothing you can do about that though, is there?" She asks, looking at me as if I have the answer to life. I guess in her eyes, making her child feel better is the answer to life. I reach my hand out but pull it back quickly, not sure if I have permission to touch her child. She notices my hesitation and waves it off, telling me to continue. I rub her jaw slowly and instantly she calms. "You're a miracle worker!" The lady sings, smiling at me.

"I took a class in college," I tell her, not stopping my work on Emily's jaw.

"Did you just graduate? From NYU?"

"Yes—in June," I inform her.

"In nursing?" She asks.

"No mam. In journalism actually. My sister used to have really bad ear aches and living in the mountains, the pressure wasn't great so, I picked up a few tricks here and there."

"Well thank you," she says. I smile in response, not stopping until the plane has jerked to a stop, safely on the ground. "Thank you again. Enjoy your time here," the woman says as she shuffles off with the baby as soon as we get the go ahead to start moving. I don't get a chance to respond before I see the blonde of her hair sweep away and down the hall of the terminal to whatever is waiting for her here.

An older man helps me grab my bag from the top of the plane. I thank him before making my way from the terminal; walking swiftly threw the airport which is rather empty today. I see a few military couples hugging and talking, young couples kissing passionately in the middle of the airport as if they're in some kind of movie. I laugh, remembering that four years ago, I was the one making a fool out of myself in the middle of this exact airport.

The air in Raleigh is cool, clear. Nothing like the muggy air in New York. I'm thankful for that. For once I'm not surrounded by the unpleasant smell of smoke and alcohol. I embrace it.

I dig my iPhone from my pockets, turning the thing on. It vibrates back to life and I am rewarded with three missed calls from Prim who is probably in the long line of cars circling the airport. I call back, waiting anxiously as it rings. She picks up on the third ring.

"Well finally," she says sarcastically.

"I just turned it on, Prim."

"I'm in a blue Honda. I'm parked but this security guard is giving me hell so if you could hurry up, I would not like to go to jail today," I laugh and hang up the phone, my eyes searching over a row of parked cars until I find a familiar blue Honda which used to belong to me.

I run up to the window, swinging the door open on Prim who is reading a text message in the driver's seat. She jumps when the door opens but untangles herself from the seat belt not a second later and has her arms wrapped around me in a tight hug. I hug her back, sinking into her. I feel like crying when she pulls away and it finally sinks in that she is no longer the fifteen year old girl I left behind four years ago. Her hair has grown out, and she wears it in soft waves like the girls on TV do. Her eyes are still the same bright blue they have been since she was born but now she has a good five inches on me.

"God, you've changed," I tell her.

"It's amazing what affect makeup can have, isn't it?" She jokes. I laugh. "Let's go. This guys about to have a panic attack." She motions over the security guard who is watching us closely. I laugh and run around towards the passenger side, throwing my carry on in the back. Prim pulls out of the parking spot easily and shoots the security guard the finger before quickly driving away, laughing hysterically as she does so.

"Primrose! Who taught you that?"

"Society," she remarks sarcastically. I giggle.

We drive in silence for a good while before conversations about New York and school begin. The usual, formal conversation. She tells me about soccer and how things in Chapel Hill are going. My mother's good according to her but her job at the hospital keeps her plentiful busy. She's captain of Varsity soccer and it's only her junior year. She tells me there's a pretty good chance she'll get into UNC by next year; maybe get a full scholarship like I did. I'm happy for her and I tell her so.

"So how was New York?" She asks once she's done giving me her lecture about how I need to take better care of my hair.

"I love it there," I tell her.

"Do you miss Chapel Hill?"

"I miss you. I don't miss it." I answer truthfully. She nods, understands.

"Katniss…" She starts but trails off, her blue eyes straying off the road for half a second.

"Yes?" I ask.

"You know… I mean… He'll probably come back home too. He's not far."

"I know," I whisper. And boy do I know.

I knew he would be there the second I got the call two days ago of what happened. There was no doubt in my mind that _he_ would be the first one there and for a moment, I almost didn't come. Then the rational part of my brain caught up with me and I realized I couldn't avoid it forever. And I needed to be here. And people—for once—needed me here.

We don't talk for the rest of the drive, being it's only about forty five minutes and once the Chapel Hill sign comes into view, the nerves sneak up on me and I'm about ready to tell Prim to pull over and that I'd rather walk back to New York than come back here. But I don't. I sink into the chair and occupy myself by checking my emails. I check on my internship options, finding that one small publishing company may actually want my help. This brings me some joy in my time of panic.

We pass through the city square—a place where I had spent so much time when I was a teenager. It's different from when I was last here. The ice-cream shop I used to come too has been changed into an organic eatery and the book store I used to shop at is now a home supply store. The one thing that hasn't changed is the large, oak tree on the far side of town which still has markings—words of promise written in to the trunk. I don't ask Prim to stop and look. I'm not sure I would be able to.

We pull into the Seam, or the rundown part of town which I grew up in. My mother and Prim still live here even though I'm sure they could afford a better house somewhere closer to town. My mother won't though. I think a piece of her still associates it with my father and that's something she would never let go of.

We pass Gales house which hasn't changed one bit. On the front porch, I see Posy who is around thirteen now, maybe she's fourteen. But she looks just like Gale. So much like Gale it almost pains me to see her. She is talking on the phone and laughing. I smile.

"She's big now, right? I see her around school and I almost can't believe it's her," Prim tells me. I nod my head in agreement, the realization that she's in high-school unreal. I have been gone for four years. I guess I just assumed they'd all stay the same. Nothing would change.

"Is Gale around a lot?" I ask, my curiosity getting the best of me.

"Still comes down on weekends. He's got some big fancy job now in Raleigh."

I always knew Gale would become someone. No matter what he always told me about being a dead-beat and never getting anywhere, I knew he would be the one to get out of here if anyone did. He had been my best friend since we were kids. We had grown up together and after our fathers had died, his mother, Hazelle, often watched after Prim and I when our mother was still sick. That's something I'll never be able to repay them for.

Gale was two years older and once he left for college, things were different. In the beginning, staying in touch wasn't difficult. But after a while our phone calls seemed strained and forced. And then I found a new friend. I found _him_. And sooner than later he became more than a friend. It was more than a surprise when Gale came home for Christmas to find out I was suddenly involved. That was a very tense Christmas and for reasons I couldn't understand, Gale was angry about _him_. Things were never the same after that and the phone calls stopped. The friendship stopped.

We pull up to my childhood home and I feel almost suffocated as I step out of the car and onto the front porch. My mother isn't home; Prim told me so before we arrived so the anxiety of that awkward embrace is off my shoulders. At least for now. "Well if it isn't so!" I hear once I reach for the door. I turn slowly, meeting my suitor.

Johanna Mason is standing on the sidewalk parallel from my home, a cigarette to her red lips. She blows the smoke from her lungs, a slow smile spreading across her face. "I never thought you'd make it home, Katniss," she tells me, a hint of anger in her voice.

"I didn't think so either," I tell her, smiling slightly, a twinge of pain in my chest. I didn't realize how much I missed her until now.

"Shitty reason you're back though," she comments. I nod in agreement. "You going now?" She disposes of the cigarette in the grass.

"Yeah. I think so," I tell her, my voice tight.

She takes a deep breath and drops her eyes to the cement. "It's… It's hard to see." I don't ask any further questions, I just leave it at that. It seems to be paining her to even say that much and I don't want to push it.

"Do you want to go with me?" I ask, suddenly not wanting to be alone but not wanting to be with Prim.

"It's a little much for me," she says. I just nod.

I turn to walk into the house.

"And Katniss," she calls after me. I turn back. "I'm glad you're here. We're all glad you're here."

I shrug. Maybe I am too.

* * *

**I got this idea last night and had to write about it!**

**Please review and tell me how it is. **

**I know this is slow but i promise it will get better! I just need to get a few things out of the way before then! How's school been for everyone? Good, i hope! PLEASE REVIEW!**

**-B**


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

"Prim, I don't know if I can."

We're standing in front of Chapel Hill Regional Hospital, the tallest building in the small college town. The warm august air is suffocating me, clogging my lungs and making me feel as if I'm trapped under water with no way of getting out. Prim is at my side, looking strangely relaxed. Of course, she's been here already with my mother, visiting as often as her busy schedule will allow her too. She grabs onto my hand at my side which I hadn't realized was shaking until she stopped it, her eyes questioning.

"You have to do this, Katniss," she tells me, making me feel like the younger sibling.

I swallow heavily, telling myself that I'm okay. Prim squeezes my hand once before pulling me forward into the automatic doors.

Inside the hospital is even worse than the outside. I haven't been here since my father died, since we had to identify his mangled body in the morgue. The smell of sterile instruments and heavy disinfectant fills my nose, making me shudder. The lobby is bustling with nurses and surgeons, all dressed in identical white coats and scrubs. There are very few people here. No one I remember.

A women who appears to be in labor is screaming obscenities at her boyfriend who has his eyes locked on the ground as nurses carry her away, asking the man to stay where he is. Poor guy. Another woman with a small child is sitting in the lobby, holding a red dish cloth to her sons' eye which is spouting blood. I flinch and look away.

"This way," Prim whispers, grabbing ahold of my hand and pulling my past the nurses desk who don't bother looking up from their work. Prim navigates me down a serious of hallways and up to the third floor before we get to room 308. She stops there, turning to me slowly, releasing my hand. "You should go by yourself." She must see my look of pure terror because she quickly adds, "at least the first time. Trust me. You'll want to be." She gives me one more smile before nodding towards the door, telling me to inside.

It takes all the power I have to push the door open but somehow I do it. There is a green curtain covering my view of the bed and I'm not sure if I want to move it. Do I want to see him like this? Is this how I want to remember my friend? I don't know the answer but before I can stop myself, I swing the curtain open and step inside the small space before I can make a run for it.

What I see breaks my heart.

Finnick lies in a hospital bed, tubs running in and out of his mouth, a long tube attached to his chest keeping his heart beating for him. His lips are slightly ajar, blue and chapped from being this way. His skin is pale, nothing like it usually is. I let out a sound of desperation, covering my mouth with one hand and trying my best to hold in a sob.

Two days ago Finnick Odiar hit a tree going eighty miles an hour, trying to make it home to surprise his parents and Annie. The paramedics were able to keep his heart beating but he's unable to do it on his own, at least for now. My mother tells me the surgeons are planning to insert a pacemaker in the next week to see if that can keep his heart beating. They don't know if he's strong enough yet and they don't know if his body will even be strong enough once it is in place. She tells me the Odiars agreed despite the risks, knowing that their son is pretty much dead when the only way he can survive is by being connected to wires and feeding tubes.

My mother tells me he wakes up for about three minutes every day though. He's unable to talk or sit up, but he lets his eyes wander. "I think he's looking for Annie," she tells me with a smile on her face.

He's unconscious now though and I can't help that it will end up being this way forever.

When my legs give me the power to walk, I wonder over to a chair right by Finnicks hand, taking a seat and staring at his face for a while. As much as I hate to admit it, he was probably the most beautiful man I knew, much too beautiful for Chapel Hill. When he ended up getting into UCLA at the end of senior year, I knew California would be perfect for him. He could swim whenever he wanted, go to a great school, have friends at the same beauty caliber, and get a pretty blonde girlfriend. All had happened except the girlfriend part. He still only loves the emotionally damaged Annie who was now absolutely shattered.

I had tried calling after I heard about the accident but was rewarded with her voicemail every time. I called her parents who told me she had thrown her phone in the lake and put her fist threw a wall. They said she refused to talk to anyone and spent most of her time sitting at Finnicks bedside, not saying anything, just sitting. They were the ones who had begged me too come home. They told me if Finnick didn't need me now, Annie sure as hell did.

So here I was.

I grab onto one cold hand, holding it tightly in both of mine, trying desperately to warm it up, get more blood flowing. I rub them slowly but nothing happens. The bruising on his arms is evident, probably from the crash. His foot is in a cast which I'm assuming is another injury he sustained which is minor compared to the heart failure he's now having.

"Dammit Finnick, what did you do?" I realize I'm talking to myself but I feel like he's listening. I feel like I'm talking to Finnick Odiar who will comment on how perky my boobs are within the next five minute. I want that Finnick back as much as I hate to admit it. "What's going to happen if you wake up and you aren't able to swim anymore? That'd be a sight to see," I tell him, laughing.

I exhale, running a free hand threw my hair, not letting go of his hand. "Do you even know what you did to Annie?" _God Finnick, what you did to Annie_. "She was already so messed up," I remind him. "She missed you so much when you left for college but she knew you'd love her. She knew you two would find a way back to each other somehow. You guys were meant to be." My voice cracks, telling me it's best to take a break from the talking before I start to do something embarrassing like cry.

"You've gotta come back," I place kiss on his knuckle, resting my head on the sheets, suddenly overwhelmed with emotion.

The heart monitor Finnick is connected to beeps loudly, breaking me from my thoughts. I know from watching enough Greys Anatomy that this is not what a healthy heartbeat sounds like and that maybe I should be concerned. I look around expectantly, suddenly wishing I wasn't alone. I'm about to scream for help when a young blonde nurse bursts threw the door and throws a stethoscope around her neck, examining him closely, not paying any attention to me.

"Is he okay? What's going on?" I ask, looking over her shoulder as she works. She flips her hair over her shoulder and looks at me as if realizing for the first time I was actually there. She puts the stethoscope back around her neck and takes a deep breathe, gathering her hair into the tie she has on her wrist.

"Every once in a while his heart will start working and the machine will set it off," she tells me.

"If his heart is beating why is he hooked up?" I ask.

"Because his heart likes to stop." And with that she leaves. I narrow my eyes and think about making a sarcastic comment but decide it isn't worth it. At least not today.

Finnicks heart monitor is back to normal pace and I relax some, sinking back into the chair and playing with the brown hair on his knuckles.

* * *

In seventh grade I had the biggest crush on Finnick Odiar. He was the quarterback of the football team, the hottest guy in Chapel Hill and he came to school in a black Range Rover every day.

A young girls dream.

Growing up in the Seam, I didn't have many friends except for Gale who at the time, didn't go to school with me. He had grown up and gone to the high-school, leaving me alone to eat lunch with Madge Undresee, a quite girl who wouldn't bother me with embarrassing questions about why I didn't have a lunch. Despite the fact I wasn't the most popular, somehow Finnick Odiar always said hello to me in the halls when no one else did. I could tell his friends thought it was strange because they would all look at him as if he had more than one head. He never said anything to them though and neither did I.

Annie Cresta has been Finnicks girlfriend since February 12th of 7th grade year. I know this because upon learning they were now a couple, I had locked myself in my room and cried for countless hours until my mother had dragged me out of my room and forced me to stop.

Annie was pretty, a girl from town who was a little different than the rest I had observed after watching them since they were kids. Sometimes, when they were at lunch, she would stare off into space until someone brought her back into the conversation or she would cover her ears with her hands until someone—usually Finnick—would whisper in her ear and tell her to stop. I could tell they all thought it was strange but they never said anything about it. They never asked what was wrong with her and I figured I shouldn't either.

She sat next to me in English and was constantly humming to music she only heard in her head. Mr. Holley would often ask her to stop and even sent her out of the classroom a few times after she refused too. We never spoke. That was until February 17th.

"Finnick Odiar is my boyfriend," she told me one day when we were supposed to be reading excerpts from a novel. I looked up from my book; a sting of pain running threw my chest.

"I know," I answer shortly, going back to my book.

"Your name is Katniss and your dad died." I look up at her. I'd never known anyone so blunt and… rude.

"Your name is Annie and you're some kind of fucking mental patient!" The words slip out before I can even stop them and when I turn my attention away from Annie who looks unphased by my outburst, the whole classroom has turned their attention on me, their mouths hanging open. Mr. Holley has taken her round rim glasses off of her face and her eyes are angry, boring into me.

I grab my backpack and go to the principal's office before I have to be told.

After a nice firm talking too and a full three weeks of dentition, I leave the office to find Annie leaning against the wall, waiting for me. I turn the other way before she can see me and begin to walk a little faster than normal, shielding my face with my hair. She sees me though.

"Katniss, stop!" She yells. I stop slowly and turn around, giving her a tense smile.

"Annie, I'm so sorry," I apologize, truly sorry.

"No, I should be sorry," she tells me. "I was out of line. I just can't help it sometimes," she gives me a shy smile.

"Me either," I admit.

"No, like physically, I can't." And I understand.

I go to her house that day. The next day she goes to mine and so forth.

I begin to sit with her and Finnick at lunch. Then lunch with Finnick and Annie becomes lunch with Finnick, Annie, and _him._

And so the story goes…

* * *

"_NO! STOP! I'M BEGGING YOU TO STOP!" _Prims loud voice breaks me from my train of thought and makes me realize I've been sitting in this same position for quite some time now. I straighten myself out, sitting up straighter in my chair and looking towards the door, wondering what in the world could be going on.

The door swings open and I'm expecting it to be Prim, finally ready to join me.

But it's not.

Crystal blue eyes are staring back at me, wide with the shock that I'm sure mine reflect. Eyes I haven't seen in four years but dream about almost every night.

Peeta.

He doesn't make a move towards me and I don't make a move towards him. I stay where I am, staring.

He's grown up quite a lot since I last saw him, standing alone in a crowded airport. His hair is still short and shaggy but it's now styled, not hanging low in his eyes. There's a light golden stubble on his jaw that glimmers in the light, turning a shade of brown when it hits at the right angle. His dark blue shirt clings tightly to his muscles, showing me how much playing baseball at Penn State has really done for him. He is no longer the sixteen year old boy I fell in love with so long ago. He's a man now.

"Hi," he whispers breaking the silence, his eyes not leaving mine.

"Hey," I whisper back.

We stare at each other for a while before he finally looks away, clearing his throat and bringing a hand back to scratch the back of his neck, a nervous habit he has.

"I wasn't expecting to see you quite yet," he admits with an uncomfortable laugh, looking back at me.

"Me neither," I tell him.

"Are you okay?" He asks, his voice genuine.

"Yeah. Why wouldn't I be?"

"You've been crying." It isn't a question. He must see my confusion and gives me a soft smile. "You have big black streaks running down your face Katniss."

Dammit!

I bring my hand up to my face, scrubbing as hard as I possibly can before black flakes fall onto the white bed sheet. I give a small smile and laugh at how ridiculous I must look. I look up at Peeta who has the same smirk on his face.

"I wasn't… I wasn't expecting this. I don't know what I was expecting but this is hard," I admit, trying my hardest to keep my emotions under control.

Peeta nods in agreement, taking a seat opposite me. He puts his face in his hands and looks at Finnick, his eyes not sad or hurt. Just confused.

"When did you come home," I ask.

"Yesterday. I was already coming back because I graduated and what not but—I came home early." I nod. "You?"

"I got here about two hours ago," I tell him. He looks like he expects me to say more but I don't.

"Would you have come back if it weren't for Finnick," he asks.

"No," I answer honestly. His face tells me he knew this would be the answer.

"Why not?"

"I don't know what a journalism major would do here in Chapel Hill, North Caroline," I answer. "Besides," I add, "I hate it here."

"I love it here," Peeta counter plays.

"What's to love?"

"Lots, Katniss," he pauses, taking a deep breath. "What's not to love about a place that taught you how to love?"

Suddenly, the boy I loved so much four years ago is standing in front of me in a crowded airport, begging me not to go, telling me we'll figure it out if we try is sitting in front of me. And once again, I'm speechless.

There's a tense moment where our eyes lock, not breaking until Finnicks heart monitor starts to beep rapidly yet again, making things awkward and uncomfortable. The rude nurse comes back in, eyeing Peeta as she does so. Peeta pays no mind to her though and has his eyes still trained on me.

"I have to go," I say, grabbing my purse and standing to my feet, rushing past the bed and towards the green curtain which seems miles away.

Peeta doesn't say anything but as I'm out of the door, pulling Prim along with me down the hall, I hear a soft voice say, "That seems to be her most famous line."

* * *

**HOW WAS IT?**

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**-B**


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Prim apologizes at least a dozen times on the car ride home, excuses spewing from that pretty mouth of hers the whole fifteen minutes it takes for us to get back to the Seam and safely inside our childhood home. I keep repeating to her that it's okay, it wasn't her fault. The more I seem to say this though, the more she apologizes. I finally caught on and have retorted to just nodding my head when I know she is done talking.

"Katniss, please don't be mad," she says one last time before I shut the door to my room in her face, leaving her behind the solid wood in a tizzy. I sink onto the pink comforter that I'm sure no one has bothered to wash since I left and sink into the cushion which sags under my body weight. I make a sound of gratification at the way it rest all my muscles and the exhaustion of the day finally hits me.

Between crying my eyes out and seeing my ex-lover, I'm exhausted.

Prim is still on the other side of the door. I can hear her labored breathing and I knew she's probably worried about me. "Go away, Prim!" I yell. A second later I hear the floors boards' creek under her weight as she walks off to her own room which is directly next to mine. I wait until I hear the click of her door before I move around.

I pull myself away from the comfort of my bed and walk around my room which looks exactly the way I left it. There are even a few pieces of clothing still spewed across the floor which I'm sure was probably just Prim looking for a skirt I probably left behind. My dresser hasn't been touched and remains of my brown hair are left in a solid blue brush that used to be my favorite. My Dior perfume is sitting, the top unscrewed. I spray a small amount on my wrist, savoring the sweet scent that fills my nose.

This one was Peetas favorite. I know this because when I chose this one over the others, he would sit as close to me as humanly possible and I could hear him inhale my scent. When I had brought this up, he had turned a deep shade of red and hid his face, telling me he couldn't help himself. I had told him it was okay, that it was my favorite too.

"So that's what you'll wear on our wedding day?" he asked, sending me a shy smile. It was meant as a joke but deep inside, I knew it was something more than that. So I kissed him, giving him all the answer he needed.

I wonder what life would've been like if I hadn't left. I could've stayed here, gone to UNC and gotten a perfectly fine education. Peeta would've stayed as well, played baseball here and been just as wonderful as he was at Penn. There's a vision of me with a swollen, pregnant belly, waddling threw the bleachers, cheering for the father of my unborn children as he lived out his dream.

I have no doubt we would've been happy, no matter what would've happen. But that isn't what I wanted. That wasn't my dream.

I knew I would have to see him at some point and surely, he would want to talk about things. I had thought about this the whole plane ride over, planning what I would say, what I would tell him, what I'd apologize for. My mind went blank when I saw those familiar blue eyes and all the courage I had mustered up on the plane ride over flew out of the window and once again, I was stunned to silence. A feeling I had not had in almost four years.

I had loved Peeta. Loved him deeply in ways I couldn't put into words. I doubt he knew that. He probably still sees me as the monster that ripped his poor teenage heart out and left him hanging, left him waiting. I can't help but flinch at the thought of Peeta hating me. I doubt he does, but a part of me is still convinced somewhere, deep down in there, he hated me for leaving him like I hated myself for leaving.

My room feels claustrophobic, all the feelings and thoughts I had fought to leave behind slowly sneaking up on me, waiting for me to address them. I had gone to New York to get away from here. To hide from this small town and all the people I had grown up knowing—all the people I loved. Now, here I was. Right in the midst feeling like a teenager again even though I was nearing twenty-three years old.

Fuck me. I need to smoke.

I grab ahold of the car keys that are on my dresser, spinning them on my index finger before rushing downstairs, passing a frantic Prim who is whispering into the phone. She snaps her head up when I make my presence known downstairs and hangs the phone up quickly, opening her mouth. "Shut up, Prim," I hiss at her, pretty sure I'll have a mental breakdown if I hear the words "sorry" one more time. She snaps her mouth close and swallows heavily, turning the corner into the kitchen.

I don't tell her I'm leaving, instead I just get inside my old car, turning on the AC and rolling out of the driveway, not looking as I do so. The Avett Brothers are on the radio, the slow guitar calming the anxiety I feel as I rush down the road, looking for a place I used to go to when I was around fourteen. It's a small abandon house, one no one knows about but Peeta and I. We used to come here to smoke and talk and… Do other things.

I follow the familiar road and am rewarded with the strong smell of mildew. I know I'm here.

The house looks no different, something in this town that has actually managed to stay the same. It looks untouched from when I had last left it and the small couch Peeta and I had brought once is still sitting on the porch, molding like the rest of the house. I sigh, a sense of relief falling over me.

I put the car and park, traveling quickly up the steps and taking a seat on the orange couch which creaks under my weight, molding quickly to my body as I melt into it. I sigh, thankful, grabbing my purse and digging for a blunt I know I packed before boarding the plane.

"Shit," I whisper when I can't find it, the urge getting stronger with each passing second.

"Here. This is probably better than whatever New York shit you've got." I snap my head up, tears filling my grey eyes at the sight of none other than Gale Hawthorne, handing me a blunt, his mouth in a smirk. "You gonna take it or just stand there and look at me?" He jokes, nudging me, placing the blunt in my palm.

His fingertips graze over my hand, the brittle tips familiar and welcoming. He looks the same, just older. He has to be nearing twenty-five now, probably has a house of his own, maybe a girlfriend. Maybe a new best friend.

"How…" I whisper, unable to finish the sentence because I'm so overwhelmed with happiness.

"Funny story actually. When you left, Peeta had this big badass party here. In his drunken state he admitted this is where you and him used to come. He then proposed the idea that we burn the place down, that he didn't want to see it anymore. We drove him home after that." He finishes the story and looks over at me, taking a seat next to me on the couch, throwing an arm around my shoulders as if nothing had happened. As if nothing had changed. "But I come here to smoke. Pretty badass, calming despite all the sick shit here," he jokes, smiling a little at himself.

I still can't respond. My mouth is wide open, my eyes big and staring at him as he lights his own blunt and inhales the smoke, letting it out in a slow fashion and smiling over at me when he's done, lighting mine. I place the blunt to my lips, the taste filling my mouth in an unwelcome way and making me choke slightly. It's been awhile since I've smoked but I sure do need it today.

"You're here," I say quietly, examining his face closely and bringing a hand up to tentiavley touch his face, checking to see if he was real or just a pigment of my imagination. He flinches at the touch but doesn't back away from it, he just lets it happen. Once I've decided this is really happening, and Gale Hawthorne is sitting next to me, smoking a blunt with me, I retract my hand and fold it into my body.

"I should be the way saying that. You're the one who hasn't been home," he tells me.

I inhale. "I know." Exhale.

"Why not?" Inhale.

"Just cause." Exhale.

"Good answer, Catnip." I flinch at the nickname, my old one from when we were young. I hadn't heard that in so long. One boy in my English class at NYU had mistaken my name for Catnip one day. I'd never yelled so loud.

Inhale. "Well, New York is a lot more exciting than this dump," I tell him. He's still for a moment before nodding his head, agreeing.

"Agreed." Exhale. "I like it cause it's home." Inhale. "Ya know?"

Exhale. "Yeah," I lie.

He hesitates a moment before saying anything more and I know what's coming. I want to tell him to stop, that I don't want to hear it. But a part of me does. So I don't say anything. I just continue my breathing patterns, eyes locked on my car which is now being blocked in by a truck I can't believe I didn't hear.

"I'm sorry, Catnip. About everything," his voice is honestly apologetic.

"Me too," I say. "Although, I don't know what I'm sorry for," I add, my eyes wandering over to Gale who is extinguishing his blunt.

"You shouldn't be sorry. I was the ass."

"What's new?" He smiles slightly and shakes his head.

"I was just being jealous."

"You were being my best friend," I confirm.

"More than that, Katniss," he whispers, almost to himself. "I shouldn't have let you leave without saying goodbye to you, no matter how mad I was at you."

"Is that why you're here?" I ask, curious.

"I'm here because Finnick is dying," flinch, "but I'm _here _because I can't have you hating me. I've never been good with that."

"I never hated you," I assure him.

"You told me you did." I remember that night clearly. Right before Gale went back; I had screamed I hated him and that he should never come back. I told him I never wanted another thing to do with him and he was the biggest asshole I had ever met. I had ended my rant with spitting in his face, telling him to go to hell and walking into my house, slamming the door behind me and falling against the door, crying hysterically.

"That was a rough patch," I confirm. Gale nods his head, understanding because it had been a rough patch for him too.

"He makes you happy."

"Made," I correct.

"No," he smiles. _"Makes."_

* * *

**Really short chapter!**

**Just wanted a little filler here. Keep reviewing guys! Thank you so much.**


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

I'm beginning to remember why I hated Chapel Hill so much.

I feel trapped. Like I'm a small mouse trying to make my way out of a maze but every time I get close, I take a wrong turn and hit a wall. Everywhere I turn is something I don't want to see. A certain memory that I've tried my hardest to forget. I remember now why I left when I did.

According to Prim, mom is working the late shift at work which means she won't be home from the hospital until late tonight once everyone's asleep. In other words, I'm being alerted that I have twelve full hours before having to deal with my mother. Twelve hours in which I should mentally prepare myself for.

After my father died, you could say I never forgave my mother for... "leaving". I know she couldn't help it. She was sad. But we were all sad and she was the mother. Prim and I should've been taken care of but instead it was the other way around. We were the ones constantly worried about her. Constantly worried about what she was doing and what she would do.

Weeks after my fathers death, I was worried that she may have hurt herself. That I would come home from school one day to find that she could no longer live in this world. I would sometimes skip 8th period of school and run home, check her bedroom to make sure she was still breathing underneath her blankets and then go get Prim from school. I never told Prim this and I doubt my mother remembers. She was so drugged out all those years I'm positive she has no recollection of that time.

Thinking about it makes my head hurt.

"Are you hungry?" Prim pops her head into my bedroom door, driving a brush threw her now straight blonde hair.

"Is that a question?" I joke.

Prim laughs. "Let's go eat then." I agree, getting to my feet and finding an old pair of boots, rushing down the steps and into the awaiting car.

Prim is on my heels, talking loudly about how bad soccer practice was today and she can't wait until they actually start playing in games. I listen to her rant, interrupting at the right times and asking all the necessary questions.

Listening to her talk now, I realize how much of her life I've missed. She's different now. More grown up. She speaks with more purpose and more intensity. I can still here the hesitation when she says her "r's". A habit I guess she never truly broke. She reminds me so much of my father that it pains me. I smile as I listen, cruising slowly down the main street.

Out of the corner of my eye I see Mellarks Bakery. My eyes stay trained on the small, brightly lit building as I pass, a slow smile spreading across my face. Now this was something I didn't mind remembering.

Id always loved the long summer nights when Peeta and I would haul ourselves up in the shop, eating all the leftovers from the day and laughing with Mr. Mellark as he told us interesting stories about his customers or Peeta as a child. These were the times when Mrs. Mellark was out at home of course. If she had known Mr. Mellark was letting me eat for free she wouldve had his head.

Despite that, days like those were my favorite. They were the ones I thought about when things went bad back in New York or I missed him. I didn't think about the fights, or the breakup or anything else for that matter. I thought about the countless nights, just sitting in the bakery eating day old cupcakes and everything would be okay again.

Threw the windows I can see Mr. Mellark, his blonde hair now grey and his face covered with wrinkles. He's handing a cupcake to a small child who has a wide spread smile across their face, handing him a quarter in return for the treat which I'm sure Mr. Mellark made special for the little boy.

I'm so focused on the bakery, I forget all about driving until the car comes to an abrupt stop, Prim and I both rocking forward. Prim screams, stopping her body from going forward by putting her arms out in front of her to catch herself. My head connects with the steering wheel, a little bit of blood splattering on the wind shield but not enough to cause any sort of alarm.

Well fuck.

"DAMMIT!" I yell, slamming my hands down on the steering wheel in frustration. If this would happen to anyone, of course it would be me.

I look over at Prim who-to my surprise-is laughing. Her cheeks are pink and her eyes are shut, tears falling from the corners. "I'm glad you think this is funny!" I yell, unbuckling myself.

"Chill, Katniss," she whispers threw the tears. I retract my seat belt, maneuvering my way out of the car to asses the damage. It seems that I've hit a mailbox, denting the front end of the car. I curse, slamming my hand down on the hood. Prim has joined me at the front of the car, finally able to calm herself down enough. "What do we do? We have to get that fixed."

"Thank you Prim. I had no idea!" Despite my sarcastic remark, i had no idea what we were supposed to do. In the city no one drove anywhere and back when I had a car, I also had a boyfriend who would handle all of my car needs.

It seems to me this damned town must be cursed or something.

"I don't know. Call mom," I suggest, turning my attention to the engine which is now steaming. I roll my eyes, coughing as the steam enters my lungs. Good lord, I could never be a smoker.

"Need some help?" A quiet voice asks from behind me, placing a friendly hand on my shoulder.

"Please! I have no-" I turn around to face my heroin and low and behold I am face to face with Mr. Ronald Mellark himself.

My heart swells for a moment, the friendly face reminding me so much of what was actually good in this town. I can smell the vanilla and cinnamon wafting from his clothes, taking the place of the smell of gas. A large smile spreads across my face as I embrace him, feeling comforted as he does the same to me.

"I was just asking Primmy here the other day when you were coming home," Mr. Mellark says, nodding over to Prim who has taken a seat on the curb, scrolling threw her phone. She looks up at the mention of her name and gives a tight lipped smile, saying hello to Mr. Mellark.

"Yeah. I wasnt planning on it but... You know." I say awkwardly, running a hand threw my hair and trying to avoid any eye contact with him. He's such a nice man, and being hostile towards him makes my stomach hurt. I look into his blue eyes and smile unconvincingly, trying to hide my discomfort.

"Terrible, isn't it?" He whispers. There's a beat of silence before he adds, "Anyway, I can call someone to take this to the shop for you. They'll be able to fix it up within a day or two," he tells me.

I'd actually forgotten all about the car.

"Thank you," I say.

He pulls out his cell phone and dials a number, talking quickly to whoever is on the other line. When he hangs up, he assures me that they'll be here soon to haul the car away. "I could call your mom to come get you," he offers. "I would take you home but I've got the bakery to run."

"She's at work. It's really not that far of a walk," I say. I can hear Prim muttering from behind, and kick her softly, a silent warning to shut up.

"Yes it is, Mr. Mellark," Prim whispers, not bothering to look up from her phone.

"The girls right. I'll call Peeta to come get you."

Oh no no no no no.

"Mr. Mellark that's not a good-"

"Thank you!" Prim screeches, over powering my own voice. Mr. Mellark gives a tight lipped smile before calling Peeta who, from what I can hear, is already on his way, happy as ever to be escorting Prim and I home.

"I'm going to kill you," I hiss at Prim.

"Cool."

Mr. Mellark has turned his attention back towards Prim and I, shoving his phone back in his pocket. "I heard you graduated! Got any jobs or plans yet?"

This is a cliche question that I've answered dozens of times. The answer in almost automatic now. "Not yet. I've applied for a few internships but haven't found anything really worth perusing yet."

"I'm sure it will come to you," he says. "it's been great to see you. Please stop by the house to pick up dinner before you head back. I have to get back to the bakery. You can't leave little Barbara alone for too long. It was good to see you." We embrace again and say our goodbyes one last time before he walks slowly back to the bakery, holding the door open for an elderly couple that pass threw the doors.

Once he's out of sight, I usher Prim to her feet. "C'mon. We have to go," I tell her. She looks up at me threw her long, eyelashes, rolling her eyes.

"No." When did she become is disobedient?

"Yes Prim. Now!" I yell, grabbing her by her thin arms and hoisting her to her feet with all the power I can manage. She stumbles for a moment before straightening herself out, brushing the blond hair away from her shoulders and sending me a death glare.

"Peeta is coming to get us, Katniss! We cannot walk home. One of two things will happen. Option number 1, well die from dehydration before we make it home. Option number 2, well get murdered." She uses her fingers for emphasize and shoves them in front of my face after she's done, sitting back down on the ground dramatically. "Both end in death and dying necessarily isn't what I planned on doing today."

"When did you become so... So-"

"So much like you?" She questions. "A long time ago!"

I open my mouth to retaliate but close it just as quickly. She's right. She's turned into a younger, blonder me.

I turn my attention back towards the bakery which is flowing with life. More and more customers saunter in and I watch as they saunter back out, hands holding brown paper bags with pastries or rubbing their full bellies. Young girls walk in with happy faces and leave with even happier ones, talking to their parents as they hold hands.

I sigh.

"Whats the long face for?" A voice asks from behind me.

I turn on my heel, coming face to face with Peeta Mellark for the second time today.

He has a coy smile on his face, his blue eyes popping against the white sweater he has on. I'm at a lose of words for a few moments, just aimlessly staring at his handsome face as his eyes lock with mine.

Prim clears her throat loudly, standing in between us two with her arms folded tightly against her chest. I blink rapidly, turning my attention towards her. She has a small smirk on her face, her eyes shifting between the two of us awkwardly. "Hi Peeta. How nice to see you again," she says, her eyes still trained on me.

"Hey Prim," he whispers.

"Katniss crashed our car."

"Way to state the obvious, Prim." I say sarcastically. She rolls her eyes, completely ignoring my comment.

"Can you drive us home?" She asks.

"That's what I came for!" He says cheerfully, putting a hand on my crushed bumper, eyeing the damage. "Damn Katniss."

I roll my eyes. "I know. I know. I wasn't paying attention."

"What we're you paying attention too?"

I open my mouth to tell him but close it immediately. What am I supposed to say? Oh. I was reminiscing on what could've been and what used to be and I got so consumed by my thoughts I jumped the damn curb! Somehow, that didn't sound right to me.

"Things." I say lamely.

Peeta does what Peeta does and nods. "We'll let's go. I can call my dad and tell him to deal with the auto shop." Prim is quick on his heels, practically running to the car doors.

I try to think of a stall tactic because I'm not quite ready to get in the car yet. I contemplate making Prim sit in the front but she's already made her way into the back seat, stretching out in his Prius. Peeta is also already in the car, staring at me threw the glass with a smirk on his face. He nods over to the passenger seat and I have no choice but to move forward.

When I open the door to the car, I'm amazed about how much is the same. There are three Gatorade bottles on the floorboard (all green because that's his favorite flavor.), a pack of spearmint gum in the cup holder and a picture of me on his dash.

The picture is my senior picture. I'm in a god awful blue dress, my hair actually down instead of braided with a feather hanging from it. I'm actually smiling in the picture. A real smile. An actual smile.

"Wow," I say, reaching for the picture and examining it.

Peeta squirms, obviously uncomfortable. "I... Yeah, sorry," he mumbles, grabbing the picture from my nimble fingers and placing it in the glove compartment.

I don't say anything else. I just turn my gaze out the window and watch the town pass before me.

Prim is still in the back and I can hear her soft laugh. I watch her threw the rear view mirror, sending her death glares until she returns one, covering her mouth with her hand to stop laughing.

"Have you graduated?" Peeta asks.

I nod. "Yeah. You?"

Peeta nods. "Going to medical school now. Or applying. I'm not in yet."

I frown, knowing Peeta would never want to be a doctor. "What happened to art?"

Peeta smirks. "There's no money in art."

"But you love it."

Peeta licks his lip. "Yeah. Well... Gotta get out of here somehow, right?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I guess."

"Do you like New York?" He asks, trying to keep the conversation alive.

I smile. "Yeah. Definitely miss home sometimes though."

"Yeah. I get that."

"How was Penn?"

He shrugs. "It was Penn State," he says with no emotion in his voice.

"It was all you ever wanted," I say. Ever since we were kids, all Peeta has talked about was Penn State and playing ball there. When we he had gotten an offer our junior year in high school, he had been so excited. But when he learned I had not been accepted our senior year, he said he wasn't going anymore.

Needless to say that was a big fight and a looming cloud we couldn't get rid of.

But after I ran off to New York, he went to Penn. Lived his dream.

"Not everything," he said with a smirk on his face.

The bumpy road signals our arrival in the Seam and I've never been happier. The conversation was taking a turn towards "Intense Plaza" and I wasn't ready for it. Not yet.

I knew we would have to talk about it at some point. I would probably be staying in Chapel Hill for awhile and eventually the conversation would come up. I just couldn't do it today. Or tomorrow. Or the day after that, honestly.

"Right-"

"I remember, Katniss," he says, pulling the car up the driveway. He comes to a shaky stop, jerking us all forward.

"Thanks, Peeta," Prim says, stepping out the car and slamming the door.

"Welcome," Peeta yells after her. He smirks. "Isn't she something."

I laugh. "I know. I don't know where she got it from."

"Katniss Everdeen, are you kidding me? She is a spitting image of you," he jokes.

I playfully slap his arm. "That hurts. I was never that sassy."

Peeta rolls his eyes. "That probably hurts," he says, touching my forehead. I flinch.

Shit. I forgot.

"My mom will take care of it," I say, moving away from his touch.

"Right. Well make sure she does that. You don't need an infection."

"Thank you, Dr. Mellark," I joke. He smiles.

"Call me sometime. Okay?" I can tell he's no longer joking and the desperation in his voice makes my heart clench.

"Yeah," I whisper, opening the door to leave.

"Promise?" He asks, grabbing onto my arm to stop me.

I lock eyes with him and I'm thrown back into a time and place when everything was so much simpler. When we were two teenagers in love living in a college town, the whole world in our hands yet it was all such a blur. When we lived in a haze and reality of the world had yet to set in on us.

When it was just Peeta and I and nothing else.

"Promise," I whisper.

He smiles, releasing me. "Bye, Katniss."

"Thank you so much," I say.

"No problem. Anytime."

"Bye, Peeta." I wave, not glancing back once afraid that I won't be able to walk away if I do.

I'm just inside the house when Prim comes around the corner, a bowl of cereal in her hands. "Are y'all back together yet?"

I roll my eyes. "No, Prim."

"Y'all are meant to be," she tells me.

"Are we now?" I ask, wondering into the kitchen.

"Always have been, always will be."

She disappears up the stairs, her door slamming.

I think to myself as I pour my own bowl of cereal.

"Always have been, always will be," I sing to myself, smiling at the meaning of my own words.

* * *

Sorry for such the long delay. I hope it's okay! Please give me honest reviews. More will start happening. I promise! Thank you.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

2008

"You've got to slow down, Katniss."

"I don't have to do anything I don't want to do."

"Well I really have no intention of dying today so if you could please slow down that'd be greatly appreciated."

"Well lucky for you, we're here."

I swerve in front of the rundown shack I call a home, fragments from what used to be the road flying up as I roll the car to a complete stop, jerking forwards as my foot slams on the breaks. Peeta finally removes his hands from over his eyes, taking an exaggerated deep breath and looking around expectantly as if he couldn't believe we'd made it.

"Told you I could drive," I wink, kissing his cheek as he unbuckles his seatbelt.

"I wouldn't call that driving," he tells me, kissing my square on the mouth. I giggle and he slides my body over the console, placing me in his lap in record time.

"Prim might-"

"Prims at Rues. C'mon, Katniss," he whispers, his lips slipping down my neck to suck on my pulse point. I close my eyes, completely engulfed in the feeling of him all around me. My fingers tangle in his blonde curls, tugging slightly as he sucks harder, changing his angle.

"Katniss," he moans, his lips returning to my mouth in a demanding kiss. He nips at my bottom lip, using his tongue to soothe the spot.

I love Peeta when we're intimate. I love him when we're not but it's a different kind of love when we are.

He's so strong and forceful. Nothing like he is when we're in front of our friends or parents. I love the Peeta that isn't afraid to pull my hair in the heat of the moment or whisper dirty things in my ear. I loved that there was a part of him that only I got to see. A part of him that I would only ever get to see.

"My shirt," Peeta groans, pushing my hands to the bottom of the cotton t-shirt he's got on. I pull up just as he lifts his arms and I'm left with a beautiful shirtless man. I trail my hands down his perfectly carved abs, marveling at each one of them.

Peeta watches me intently, knowing that I'm not normally patient when were so close. His blue eyes start at me eyes but end up wandering to my breast which are completely covered except for the small area my shirt wasn't able to hide. I smirk, leaning forward to whisper in his ear. "See something you like?"

He licks his lips slowly, his eyes staying where they are. He nods sharply. "Jesus, Katniss," he whispers, leaning his head up to capture my lips again. After a moment, I pull away to begin my assault on his naked chest.

He groans loudly.

Just as the fire begins to pull in my lower stomach, a knock interrupts my thoughts. I look up, looking at both windows. It's impossible to see through either because of the fog Peeta and I have created. "Baby," Peeta whines, pulling me back to him.

I put my hands on his chest, pushing myself away. "What was that?" Peeta rolls his eyes.

"Nothing!" The frustration in his voice doesn't go unnoticed and it's my turn to roll my eyes.

I reach my hand up to the window, rubbing in small circles until I can see clearly outside and what I find is not pleasant.

My mother, just home from work, is standing against the side of Peetas car, a blush on her cheeks. Peeta seems to have snapped out of his haze promptly throws me back over the console, reaching for his discarded shirt.

My mother opens the door, pops her head inside and only says five words.

"Come in the house, sweetie."

* * *

It's around ten o'clock when my mother finally makes it home, stumbling through the door in her purple work scrubs, her blonde hair in a messy bun.

I'm sitting at the dining room table, reading a magazine I bought at the airport. Prim is watching TV in the living room, laughing every two seconds at whatever program she's watching. I roll my eyes, remembering how young minded she is.

"Prim! I'm home," my mother says, probably forgetting I was even coming in today. Typical.

"I'm home too," I say softly. My mother turns on her heel quick, clutching her chest when she finally sees me.

She's aged since I left. Her blonde hair has a few streaks of gray and her blue eyes are wrinkled. She looks tired but that's nothing new. Ever since the death of my father, the look never really left her.

As we stand awkwardly in the kitchen, I can sense the internal struggle she's having. Mostly because I'm having the same one. She's probably wandering whether or not to hugging me would be what I want. I'm wondering the same thing.

"Katniss!" She yells after a moment, running towards me with her arms wide open enveloping me in a hug.

Well, I guess this is happening.

I smile tightly, not listening to my hesitation and hugging her back, actually enjoying the feeling for a moment before the angry thoughts start to circulate. "I would've been home earlier but I got caught up!"

_Lie, _I think, _you forgot. _

"It's okay," I say, pulling away from her.

"Oh god! Your hair has gotten so long. And you're so skinny. Are you eating?" She picks up my arm and spins me dramatically. I laugh without humor.

"Living off of a part time job," I remind her.

She nods her head awkwardly. "I hope Prim hasn't been driving you mad," she says, changing the subject.

"No. It's good to be home."

"I'm glad. You should really visit more often."

"Well I'm graduated now."

"Did you get our gift?"

"Yes. Thank you. It was really helpful." I can't help but notice how clipped my voice sound with my mother. Almost as if I'm having a conversation with a complete stranger. In a way, I guess she is.

By the time she checked out of her "phase", I was grown up and no longer needed her. I didn't need someone to look after me or buy me things or talk to me. I could do all of that for myself. I left for college a few years later and rekindling whatever relationship we had seemed pointless.

I can only hope she and Prim have a better relationship. Prim needs someone.

Prim has joined us in the kitchen now, standing against the doorway with a smirk on her lips.

"You two do anything fun today?" She asks.

Oh yeah…

"Actually-"

"Katniss crashed the car!"

"Prim!"

"_WHAT?_" My mother eyes are wide with horror. She asses Prim up and down before moving over to me. "Are you hurt? Is this how you cut your eyebrow?"

"Yeah but it's nothing. Just a scratch. And I'm sorry. I… I don't know what happened. The car should be fine and I'll pay for the damage. I-"

"Sit, Katniss. I have to clean out this cut." She pushes me down into a chair, running around the kitchen grabbing whatever she can find. I look over at prim who is smirking in the doorway, obviously enjoying this. "This cut looks hours old."

"I meant to clean it up but I forgot," I explain. My mother just scoffs.

"This will sting," she says before placing a napkin drenched in alcohol over my open wound. I flinch, crying out in pain as she pats the wound. "Sorry." She continues her assault for a few more minutes before throwing the napkin in the sink and grabbing a band aid from the pantry.

"No stitches? Peeta said they might need some."

"No stitches." My mother covers the cut. "Peeta?"

"He gave Prim and I a ride," I explain. My mother just smiles. "Uh, thank you mom. I'm pretty tired from the plane ride and car and all that jazz so I think I'm going to head up."

She blinks. "Oh. Of course." She waits a moment before adding, "I love you."

The words seem so foreign coming from her that I don't know how to respond to them. I try my best, opening my mouth to repeat them back to her but nothing comes out. So instead I whisper a simple, "You too."

This was going to be a long visit.

* * *

34930 Terry Road hasn't changed one bit since my departure from Chapel Hill four years ago.

The red brick two story home still has a wall of ivy growing up the left side of the house, a swing in its front porch and the old oak tree which is home to so many memories and responsible for so many of the scars covering my body.

My hand still as I lift it to knock, panic suddenly coursing through my body as I realize I may not be able to do this. At least not now. I turn, prepared to sprint back home when the door opens. I freeze, shutting my eyes tightly before slowly turning back around to face my suitor.

Mrs. Shannon Cresta is standing on the front porch in a light pink robe, her red hair in a ponytail, her face makeup less for once. The coffee cup she was holding in her hand drops, smashing into fragments on the floor. Her hand covers her mouth, tears falling down her eyes as she looks me over.

For years up until I left for New York, it had been Annies mother who had taken on the role as my mother. She had given me a place to sleep most nights with homemade food and ever bought me my school clothes one year. She was generous when it came to Prim and I and never asked for anything in return. It was Mrs. Shannon Cresta who took me to school and signed my permission slips and told me she loved me at the end of the day.

She was my mother for a short period of time and leaving her and her family had been the hardest thing I'd ever had to do.

"Katniss?" Her voice is soft and quite, full of emotion as she moves towards me, her arms tightening around me. My body reacts out of pure habit and I wrap myself up in her embrace. I can feel the tears falling onto my hair as she holds me in place. Her quite sobs almost signal my own and I have no desire to ever let go. "Katniss."

"Hi, Mrs. Cresta," I choke out, my voice cracking.

We hold on to each other for what feels like eternity before she finally has the strength to pull away, wiping her cheeks and then wiping mine. "Well holy hell, I think I'm seeing a ghost," she jokes. I laugh.

"I'm sorry I haven't been by. I mean, I haven't been back," I explain. She nods her head.

"I know. I know. How was New York?" She asks, grabbing a hold of my arm to pull me inside.

"It was New York. It was spectacular," I tell her, smiling.

"I can only imagine. Do you plan on going back?"

"I'm not so sure. I would like to—to work and what not—but it expensive."

She nods her head, shutting the oak door. "It was expensive to have Annie live at the campus at UNC. I can't imagine New York."

"It was definitely something."

My heart hurts at the mention of Annie and I suddenly remember why I came in the first place.

"Do you think Annie would want to talk to me?"

Mrs. Cresta shrugs. "Lord knows."

When I'd left for New York, it had been a quick decision. One that I had made 24 hours before boarding my plane. I had told no one except for Prim and my mother. Not even Peeta had known till I was already on my way to the airport.

I hadn't told Gale or Finnick or Johanna or Annie…

No one.

Finnick forgave me. Gale forgave me. My mom forgave me. Prim forgave me. Johanna forgave me. Mrs. Cresta forgave me. Peeta kind of forgave me, I'm guessing.

But Annie could never find it in herself to forgive me. All my calls went straight to voicemail, all my text went unanswered and every letter I sent to her went with no reply. Eventually, I gave up. After all I couldn't blame her. I had left her. She had every right to be made at me and I had no right to be angry at her.

But not a day went by when I didn't think about her.

I got tid bits of information about her life from Finnick or Mrs. Cresta when I would call monthly. They would always tell me she was fine, doing better and liking college. Every time I asked if I should call, they each told me no.

"Would you mind if tried?" I ask.

"No. I don't mind," Mrs. Cresta whispers. "She's up in her room."

I've bounded up the stairs in records time, remembering my way to her room perfectly.

Last one down the hall to the left.

I knock slowly, knowing I no longer have the privilege of just barging in whenever I felt necessary.

"Who is it?" I hear her yell. I don't tell her. Instead I keep knocking.

"WHAT?!" She yells, opening the door. When she sees me, her eyes soften. For a minute I think she's going to hug me. I think we're going to have a reunion and cry together and hug and talk about all the things we've missed out on and apologize for everything that's happened in our friendship.

At least, that's what I _thought_ would happen.

But as I open my mouth to greet her, her fist collides with my face. I don't have time to react to the blow before she takes one more swing, slapping me hard across my face.

I scream, back peddling until I hit the wall, my eyes wide with shock.

I look at Annie then. Her red hair cascading down her back, her freckled face and green eyes which are angry. She doesn't look like the Annie I left behind but then again, I probably don't look like the Katniss that left her behind.

"Annie," I whisper, tasting the blood in my mouth.

"Get out of my house," she snarls. "GET THE HELL OUT OF MY HOUSE!"

I jump, unable to move.

"HOW DARE YOU COME HERE! HOW DARE YOU!" She yells. "I don't want to see you. I don't want to hear from you. I don't want to hear about you. I want you to get the hell out of my house and the hell out of this town!"

"Annie, please just listen to me…" I plead, putting my hands up in defense.

"I have nothing to say to you, Katniss! Is that even your real name or have you become someone completely different?" I'm unable to hold back my tears any longer. "GO!" She yells but her voice cracks as she begins to sob.

"Annie," I whisper, moving toward her out of habit to comfort her. As I reach my hand out to touch her, she pushes me away.

"I hate you, Katniss."

Then she slams the door in my face.

* * *

**Hate this chapter.**

**oh well.**

**just a filler.**

**Review?**


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